


Concerning Shorthalts

by bugles



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Family Bonding, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Other, Singing, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugles/pseuds/bugles
Summary: One-shots about Shorthalts.04: “I’m quite old,” Scanlan lies, and grins broadly. | Scanlan/Pike, Scanlan & Vox Machina03: The Trickfoot children are loved every moment of their young lives. | Scanlan/Pike02: They all have nightmares after the final battle. | Scanlan & Vax01: Scanlan tries to connect with his daughter. Kaylie begrudgingly lets him.  | Scanlan & Kaylie





	1. A Daughter's Lament

Before Kaylie had come into his life, he had forgotten her mother’s name. Sybil wasn’t someone who made a lasting impression outside of her attempt to cuddle and cling, but it hadn’t made her a lesser gnome than himself or his own mother. Juniper Shorthalt certainly deserved to be remembered, and after he had lashed out at the family he thought had loved him, he realized how alike he and Vox Machina had become. They were all truly shitty people.

He couldn’t let the same fate befall his daughter. The thought she was unloved hurt him in that newly discovered place in his heart. Kaylie had suffered enough growing up without a father. It was time he listened to her, learned about her. It seemed a fitting start to ask about Sybil, although Kaylie hadn’t taken kindly to it.

 “Why?” She asked, eyes narrowing as she blew a tuft of chestnut fringe from her eyes. “Are you trying to see if you can have another go?”

“Kaylie, please.”

“She’s dead.”

That had been the end of the conversation for a while. Scanlan had stammered his condolences and Kaylie wiped her eyes and shrugged as if she had simply had her share of bad luck one too many times. Scanlan let the topic rest while they took a detour under the shade of forest trees and re-strung their instruments. They talked about spices instead, how one of his companions _but definitely not Scanlan_ once bought a sack of fusaka, thinking it was for more recreational activities than sprinkling atop racks of lamb. Kaylie had chuckled then, and it seemed he had been forgiven.

His daughter still kept to herself, as she always did. Scanlan told her stories to fill the silence. She never seemed to mind them, and even smiled and asked him to do his impressions of Grog and Vax more than once as they walked. It was comfortable. It was their bonding, even if it felt one-sided at times. Scanlan only wanted _more_.

By the time they had reached the outskirts of Emon, he had a new plan for getting his daughter to open up. This time around, it involved a song.

Hitching his backpack up his shoulders, he flashed her a grin and cleared his throat. In a clear, jaunty tune, he began to sing.  
  
_“Oh she was a fiery one_  
_A lady through and through_  
_A little lass, I won’t be crass_  
_She’d deck you so you flew”_

Kaylie smirked and caught his eye. “Is this about me?”

 _“A voice so pure and sweet and yet_  
_Could growl and make you wee!_  
_She throws her voice and makes some noise_  
_You’ll shit yourself and flee!_

 _I wouldn’t say a word_  
_against her dad against her mom_  
_Cause he’s a mess and she’s the best_  
_Her dad made up this song!”_

 Kaylie covered half her face as a nearby merchant smiled and waved at the newcomers.

 _“I had to let her know somehow_  
_I love her and I’ve found_  
_It’s hard to share your life_  
_When someone just won’t stick around._

 _So little one, I swear to you_  
_I’m here to stay and learn_  
_All that I can about you_  
_I’m your father, it’s my turn.”_

He fell silent after that, looking expectant and catching Kaylie’s flush as they trudged along the road.

“Not good?” He asked. “Was I sharp?”

“No.”

“Flat?”

“This is still about mum isn’t it?”

They had stopped again, Kaylie looking him over like she was trying to rearrange the honesty in his face into the deceptive scoundrel she had met months ago in that tavern. Her father was all charisma and lies, and it was still fresh to her that he never tried to use those charms on her. Not after the first time.

Scanlan merely looked earnest. “It’s about you, my beautiful, brilliant daughter.”

“And mum.”

“Alright, and your mom.” He bit his lip, looking younger than his years. “I only know she was important to you, and that makes her important to me as well. I should know someone who was such a big part of your life.” Kaylie looked away. She reminded him of a parchment curling up to contain its secrets. After a short pause, she kicked the dirt.

“Load of good that’ll do now,” Kaylie grumbled.

“Please.”

“Not today, _Dad_.”

Scanlan felt his shoulders slump.

 “Alright.”

At least he had gotten a _Dad_ out of it.

Silence followed them the rest of the way to the city. By the time they’d reached a tavern, Kaylie had wandered off for a pint. Scanlan tracked down the owner to pay for their rooms, and once he’d turned around to speak to Kaylie, she had appeared behind him holding a piece of paper under his nose.  Their eyes locked briefly as Scanlan took it.

“Goodnight, Father,” she said, and hesitated. It looked like she wanted to say more, but even those words were spoken so quietly Scanlan nearly missed them. He blinked at her.

“Goodnight, Kaylie.”

She scuttled off to one of the rooms, and Scanlan opened the door to the other. He sat on the bed, unfolded the piece of paper, and started to read.

 _“Her father was a fool_  
_And her mother never knew_  
_She wanted love and found it_  
_With her daughter Kaylie June_  
  
_She tailored clothes for other gnomes_  
_Learned craftwork just for toys_  
_She cried for days when she was paid_  
_But only shared her joy_  
  
_She liked a song, to sing along_  
_But never had the gift_  
_Instead she told her daughter how_  
_To turn a phrase for profit_  
  
_Wiser than the wisest_  
_Lived a clumsy loving life_  
_Gave everything to Kaylie June_  
_Never ever ‘came a wife_

 _Now her daughter runs amuck_  
_To profit from her singer’s luck_  
_And find the father she once took_  
_For someone who looked like a schmuck.”_

It was here Scanlan could see a previous lyric had been scribbled over. A far less flattering lyric. He smiled nonetheless.

“Thank you, Kaylie,” he said quietly. Scanlan folded the paper back over and into his pocket.

It wasn’t much, but it was a step in the right direction. And for now, that was all he really wanted.


	2. The Raven's Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all have nightmares after the final battle. | Scanlan & Vax

They all have nightmares after the final battle. Vex still cries herself sick in Percy’s arms. Keyleth is silent and guarded, weary as if she has already lived her thousand years of life. Grog and Pike drink more often than not. Percy loses himself entirely in his crafts. Scanlan, in moments when he can no longer hold onto his carefree façade, panics until a loved one holds him and whispers nonsense into his ear.

He isn’t embarrassed, but he does find panicking to be a terrible coping mechanism. Some days he wishes he could cry again, like Vex still does. She always seems to feel a little better afterward. Scanlan just ends up exhausted and prone to headaches. 

The images he sees during the panic attacks – those appear in his dreams as well. He sees his daughter lying dead in his arms. Sometimes it’s Vax he’s holding, or Pike. He pushes his face into a pillow, and in the mansion, a servant will sometimes float eerily beside him waiting to be told how to ease its master’s pain.

Those nights are some of the worst. 

Scanlan still prays to Sarenrae, even if he is a champion of Ioun. He believed in Sarenrae first, and if Ioun is all-knowing, he figures she wouldn’t have chosen him if she had a problem with it. He needs healing after all, not knowledge. They all do.

So he prays for peace and acceptance. He prays for Vax. He prays for guidance.

But afterwards in his dreams, it’s Vax who comes to him as a shadow of his Raven Queen. “You will be alright,” Vax mouths, but in the dream Scanlan can understand him. The Raven King rests his hand on Scanlan’s shoulder, then takes a knee and brings Scanlan into his arms. “Rest now.”

Scanlan wakes in sweat, muscles aching in the aftermath of another bout of panic. He curls up the best he can, rubbing the heel of his palm against his wet cheeks. 

“Thanks Vax,” Scanlan whispers to no one, but somehow he manages to grin. “That’s not the first time I’ve had a panic dream about a sexy half-elf.”

Somewhere in the distance, he swears he hears a raven laugh.


	3. Begin Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trickfoot children are loved every moment of their young lives. | Scanlan/Pike

The Trickfoot children are loved every moment of their young lives.

The elder, Juniper, is a wild thing with untidy brown hair that covers her eyes no matter how often her father cuts it. She is the one who tackles Kaylie into the ground every time her beloved sister visits, and she is the one who lies and gets away with it.

Her younger sister is the quiet one, the tactician behind any schemes the two of them enact. Her name is Piper, and she was born with hair as dark as night. Scanlan insists she is the spitting image of her mother’s childhood looks.

They are beautiful girls in every sense of the word, but sometimes, after a particularly exhausting day of dealing with two rambunctious little ones, Pike wonders if this life is the fantasy Scanlan always wanted.

She tries to ask him this once, late into the evening when her husband has elected to use Bigby’s Hand as an enchanted ceiling for a quilt fort.

“It looked fun when the girls were doing it,” he tells her, smiling and cross-legged from atop their newly canopy’d bed. “Besides we haven’t built a fort since the mansion days.”

It’s hard to disagree with Scanlan’s logic sometimes, but Pike often finds she doesn’t want to anyway. Instead, she crawls in beside him and lets the quilt fall behind her. It’s much nicer huddled in this cocoon while the winter winds frost the walls outside their home.

“Scanlan,” Pike starts, hesitant as the other takes her hands and begins to rub them.

“Pikey.”

“You’ve been happy, haven’t you? Happy with the life we’ve built. Our kids and our home and our… us.”

She watches Scanlan smile down at her hands, still warming them.

“Because,” she begins again, voice strangely high. “Because I wondered. And I’m not saying I want this or don’t want this, but I wondered… we have two wonderful girls. Did you ever… when you think about our lives together…”

Scanlan glances up then, a sharp eye on her and a curious smile in place. “Yes?”

“Did you ever want a son?”

It’s a heavy question to hang in the air, and Scanlan’s eyes widen as the implication dawns on him. “Oh my God. Are you–?”

“No!” Pike interrupts. “No, not pregnant. Definitely not. Barren like the desert in here.”

“Okay,” he says, after a few heavy blinks and a deep breath. She can’t tell whether he looks relieved or flummoxed. Scanlan can guard his expressions a little too well when he likes. Pike isn’t quite as gifted, and bites her lip and she tries to re-word and re-think what she had meant to ask.

“It’s just we never really talked about this before, you know?”

That seems closer to the right thing to say. Scanlan looks more thoughtful as he considers it, but then that bright smile appears again and he holds her hands to his chest.

“Pike Trickfoot,” he starts, and she hides a smile. There’s a speech in those words. “You’ve made me happier than I’ve ever imagined I could be. We have two brilliant children, a home we built together, and so much love in our lives it sometimes makes Grog cry into a bedsheet. My beautiful bride,” Scanlan tilts his head, looking both sincere and impish. “I don’t need anything else.”

It makes her heart ache to hear him say these things as earnestly as the first time he confessed his love to her. Pike knows she’s lucky – they both are.

“I thought I didn’t want children,” Pike reminds him, to which Scanlan hums and places her hands gently back in her lap. “But I love them so much. I didn’t even know I was capable of it.”

“Yes you did,” Scanlan insists, a playful lilt to the words. “You’re one of the most caring people I’ve ever met. You taught us all to love a little better.”

She punches him in the arm rather than let her heart swell, and Scanlan takes this as his cue to feign innocence.

“I love you, you know,” she tells him.

“Sorry?” Scanlan asks, leaning a little closer. “Didn’t catch that.”

“I love you so much.”

“You love having lunch?”

Scanlan winks at her, and she feels no guilt in pushing him over and kissing him as Scanlan struggles to murmur half-rhymes into her skin.

They’ve been married over twenty years now, but on days like this, it still feels like they are beginning life over again.


	4. To Youth We Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m quite old,” Scanlan lies, and grins broadly. | Scanlan/Pike, Scanlan & Vox Machina

When Scanlan watches his mother die, he is a child – wide-eyed and frozen in fear as he hides beneath the floorboards. He is safe underground, but when he peeks out he can see his mother’s lifeless hand lying limply beside one of the kitchen chairs. He is too young to perform the magic necessary to save her.

A traveling troupe picks him up once Scanlan has grown between a child and adult. He has nearly reached his full height, still small and malnourished, and the ideal size to weave between patrons and pockets to snatch a purse or two. His new companions ruffle his hair and pick him up, and Scanlan pretends not to mind. They are his new family now, and none of them are accustomed to traveling with gnomes.

When he is a young adult, mischievous and whip-smart and tired of being treated like a child for so long, he meets The Shits. They don’t bother to ask his age until Trinket’s birthday comes around and Vex insists they celebrate it together. She gifts her bear the best meat pies and cuddles him incessantly. Scanlan gives him a pebble he found in his shoe. It’s symbolic.

That evening they have drinks and spend too much gold on their meals for the “special occasion.” Keyleth sits next to Scanlan, loopy on ale and more thoughtful than giggly.

“Scanlan, I was wondering…” she starts, antlers askew as she tilts her head, “Since we’ve started celebrating birthdays, how old are you?”

“We’re not celebrating his birthday,” Vex interrupts, giving Trinket a good rub. “He didn’t get Trinket anything.”

“You’re our age, aren’t you?” Vax says, as if it were obvious. He nudges Keyleth. “I can tell. Look at him.”

“I’m quite old,” Scanlan lies, and grins broadly.

Interestingly, no one seems to challenge him on this. Even Pike, who might have suspected something, seems more preoccupied with comparing muscles with Grog.

“Gnomes,” says Tiberius, particularly pompous. He blows an extra scorch of fire over his plate of chicken and begins to gnaw on a once-juicy piece of thigh.

“Tiberiuses,” says Scanlan, because he has met Dragonborn before, and none are quite like this one.

—

When Scanlan discovers he is a father, he is still young, which means Kaylie must be in her adolescence and fueled by fury. He promises to love her forever, and tells her how he wishes he could have been with her all along. He wishes he had grown wiser in that time she grew up, but there are limits to his abilities. He hopes his heart can make up for them.

And he tells her his age. He did promise not to lie to her anymore.

“You’re fucking with me,” she says, bewildered. “No wonder you didn’t stick around, you bastard.”

“I’m still so sorry. If I had known—“

“I get it, alright?” she puts down her flagon and leans across the table. “You were a dumb fuck, and dumb fucks have a lot of regrets.”

“I will never regret having you,” Scanlan says earnestly. “I regret not knowing it.”

Kaylie looks at him a moment longer, then glances off and mutters a few of Scanlan’s favorite gnomish curses.

“I do love you,” Scanlan says. “Even if we need to tell other gnomes I am your cousin or weird young Uncle.”

Kaylie snorts and pushes her empty tankard towards him.

“You’re paying for the next round,” she tells him.

Scanlan happily does. When it comes to Kaylie, he has learned forgiveness is guaranteed with ale.

—

Pike isn’t surprised. The letter was full of emotional reveals, and Scanlan supposes there may have been more shocking information in there than the fact a gnome in his first century enjoyed posing as one in his fourth.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” She asks him one quiet evening when they are the only ones left awake in the mansion. Scanlan shrugs and picks at a loose thread on the bedspread.

“I wanted them to look up to me,” he admits after a moment. “I’ve always followed other people – on the streets, or with the troupe. I finally had the chance to be a leader. And it is true,” he reminds her, catching her eye and smiling. “I am really old compared to you all.”

“You’re an idiot,” Pike says, shaking her head. “You’re a forest gnome. What is that in human years?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Scanlan says with a grin. He pushes himself off the bed and offers Pike his hand to encourage her to follow.

“I do worry I’m being courted by a child.”

“Young at heart,” Scanlan corrects as Pike takes his hand. She lets go once her feet touch the floor and leans over to give him a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Well young man – “

“Kinky,” interrupts Scanlan.

“—I am sorry I read your letter, but I promise not to tell if you like. You know it wouldn’t change anything“

“Not for them,” Scanlan agrees. “Just for me.” 

Pike bites her lip, and Scanlan can tell she doesn’t seem convinced. She gives his hand a squeeze on her way out, and once the door is closed, he dramatically falls into an awaiting purple hand. 

He stares at the ceiling. The mirror stares back.

He isn’t old, but only forest gnomes know that. This isn’t a secret to be kept.

But as far as his companions are concerned… he does relish playing the part.


End file.
